


call me close once again

by brodinsons (aeon_entwined)



Category: Actor RPF, The Hobbit (2012) RPF, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Comfort, Developing Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 04:46:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/646704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeon_entwined/pseuds/brodinsons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Filling a <b><a href="http://hobbit-kink.livejournal.com/3138.html?thread=4936258#t4936258">prompt</a></b> on the kinkmeme:</p>
<p> <i>Can I get a fill where Graham-- or anyone else, I'm not too picky!-- feels this way, too, or at least experiences a consistent desire to spoil this man with pleasant touches and nice compliments? Lord knows Richard needs it, and that Graham really is an excellent choice. Look at him, he looks as soft as a grizzly bear.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	call me close once again

**Author's Note:**

> This one's for Hayley~

It's not often he's distracted by the need to devote a ridiculous amount of time to ensuring someone else's happiness.

Granted, he obviously loves his family and his friends, but that's something of a given. This is just an all-consuming craving to see someone smile, to see the line of their shoulders relax into something less pinched and frightened, to see them being given the chance to just enjoy life, rather than constantly finding themselves at odds with it.

They've almost wrapped the first film, and they've still got two to go. Graham knows that they're going to come out of this changed in a lot of ways they weren't expecting, but he wouldn't trade it for the world. Getting to know all these people has been the experience of a lifetime and he thinks that when it's over, they're probably going to start figuring out ways to organize reunions as often as possible.

Still, he hates thinking about waking up and not being able to trundle into Middle Earth for the work day. He hates thinking about not working with the guys and girls every day of the week. He hates thinking about not sitting next to Richard at craft services and joke about the company's tan dwarven onesies that have become the latest fashion sensation across the production.

Hell, he hates thinking about not being able to see Richard every day, let alone not being able to talk to him.

Graham stabs his fork into his ceasar salad with a bit more force than is perhaps necessary, prompting the arching of a dark brow from across the table. 

"Did the lettuce insult your mother?" Richard quips, his lips quirking in a grin as Graham laughs. 

"Nah. Just got lost in my head for a bit there. Sorry."

Richard ducks his head, smiling and shuffling the croutons around his own plate, and looking for all the world like a twenty-something on a first date. Graham thinks it's a bit ridiculous, how the leader of their company commands the presence he does, and yet is the shyest and most unassuming man you will ever meet. Ridiculous in the best way, though. He wouldn't change Richard for anything. 

He watches his co-star for a few moments, then frowns when Richard seems to hunch over, unconsciously trying to make himself less noticeable.

"What's wrong?"

Richard glances up, eyes going wide for a moment before his expression loses its tension. "Nothing, really. Just can't believe we're done. Can't believe I'm still here."

Graham reaches across the table, discreetly covering the hand Richard has resting beside his plate with his own. "I thought I talked you out of that nonsense ages ago, you idiot."

Richard's fingers tense, but they eventually curl over the edge of Graham's palm, loose and comfortable. 

"I know," Richard's infuriatingly (in the best way) deep baritone is so soft, like he's trying to apologize for something that isn't his fault. "I know, I just-"

Graham waits him out, patient and silent. He's learned that pushing for explanations or answers only stresses Richard out, makes him nervous and edgy. He's learned a lot about Richard Armitage, actually.

For one, the guy is terribly self-conscious of his looks. He doesn't like his nose, he laughs self-deprecatingly when people compliment his cheekbones or jawline or legs or whatever, and he constantly tries to hunch over to make himself smaller than his 6'2" frame usually allows. For another, he's painfully shy. His on-screen personas give people the wrong idea. He can inhabit them like nobody's business, but as soon as you get him off-set, he retreats into his shell and it's nigh impossible to get him back out of it. Lastly, he's unbelievably generous. He'll toss money at you if you've found yourself in a jam, he'll drive halfway across Wellington to fetch you if you forgot your house keys, he'll give you his entire lunch if you didn't make it back to craft services in time. He's a terribly old-fashioned gentleman, and everyone adores him for it.

"It's absolutely insane, you know?" Richard finally meets his eyes, looking away from their hands. "All this. Being part of it. I was obsessed with this book when I was a kid and now we're making it into a fucking movie. And it feels like we make one wrong move and the entire world is going to eat us whole."

Graham snorts, giving Richard's hand a gentle squeeze. "Well, that's why we're all in it together, yeah? No one's getting tossed to the wolves. You've done a brilliant job and that's the end of it."

There's a shared moment of silence between them, but it's a comfortable one. Months ago, it was awkward. Stilted, even. He never knew what he was supposed to say that wouldn't prompt Richard to scuttle away into his shell again. It's easier, now. In a lot of ways.

"Ready?" Graham quirks an eyebrow, releasing Richard's hand as he makes to stand and dump his finished lunch in the bin. 

He ambles out of the tent, then smiles when the familiar presence makes itself known at his shoulder, keeping stride effortlessly. They walk side by side for a ways, neither finding the need to strike up conversation just for the sake of filling the silence. Then, Graham feels a little tug at the sleeve of his jacket and without looking down, he knows that Richard is holding onto the cuff.

It's Richard's "thing".

One of many "things", actually. But he likes it and Graham feels stupidly happy whenever he does it. 

This whole odd back-and-forth between them started a few months ago. Graham wasn't rightly sure when the want to see Richard content evolved into wanting to be the one making him content, but he decided not to fuss about it overmuch. There are bigger things in life to worry about than finding yourself falling for a co-star in the strangest way possible.

They haven't brought up the topics of "dating" or "relationships", but really, they don't need to. Graham finds himself quite happy without having to define what it is they're doing. Sex hasn't come up yet either, and in a stark turnaround from his various past relationships, Graham is perfectly alright with it. Why rush something that he feels more content with than he has in two decades.

Richard's trailer comes into view and Graham trails him up the stairs, still attached by the cuff of his sleeve.

"Go on," he nods in the direction of the cramped bed. "I'll be with you in a minute."

Richard peers at him like a dog might, curious but slightly worried.

"I'm getting you a bloody blanket, you idiot," Graham reaches up, ruffling the soft hair atop Richard's head and earning a gentle smack on the wrist for it. "Freezing in here. Now go find us something to watch on the telly."

They separate, and it takes a few minutes for him to scrounge up two suitably fluffy blankets from the closet. The trailers are nice, but the one thing they don't do is retain heat. It's like walking into an icebox every damn time. Still, he drags them back to the bed and flops down beside Richard, who makes a disgruntled sound at having been dislodged from his sprawl across the pillows.

"Here ya go, princess," Graham flares the blanket out, then does his level best to tuck it around Richard's tall frame. He gets about halfway before Richard grabs his hands, a playful glint in his eye.

That's all the warning he gets before he's being rolled onto his back, Richard's bulk looming over him. Not to be outdone, Graham grabs hold of Richard's shoulders and tussles with him, wrapping arms and legs around each other as they try to both extricate themselves from the now-tangled blanket and claim victory over their nemesis.

Richard ends up on top, both of Graham's hands pinned flat on his own chest while Richard smirks down triumphantly. 

"Well, congratulations," Graham observes dryly, though his expression softens as Richard leans down to press their lips together.

He manages to wriggle his wrists free with scarcely any effort, then starts sifting his fingers aimlessly through Richard's dark hair. He rubs blunt fingertips in repetitive patterns at the base of Richard's skull, grinning at the low purr he gets for it. 

"If you don't get yourself up, I'm not going to be able to make you any coffee later," he says in between swapping lazy kisses.

Richard pouts at him, but obediently rolls off and burrows into his mess of a blanket. "That's an underhanded tactic if I've ever heard one."

Graham shrugs, curling an arm around Richard's waist regardless.

"You knew what you were signing up for. I'm a taskmaster. And I'll exploit your weaknesses any chance I get."

He gets a pillow to the face for that one, but it was totally worth it.


End file.
